Unthinkable, Unspeakable
by Aeromance
Summary: Three lies to learn:  One, the truth is subjective.  Two, there is no Ministry - only individual people and power.  Three, there are no absolutes, only notions of them to shield you from the possibility that there is a better or worse alternative.


"Hello. My name is Draco. I will be your Host today-" He pauses, his hands freezing midway through the white leather glove, and allows himself a small smile. "It's an unconventional title, I know."

With a flick of the hand, a soft music slowly seeps into the room, coming out of the floor, walls, and ceiling. Its wondering notes are occasionally punctuated by harsh breaks, blending somehow to make a smooth melody. This time he manages to suppress his odd smile. "Is the music alright? Or-" He gestures lazily with his hand, "what about you? Are you comfortable?" His eyes slide up the reclining form. "That's very important," he whispers softly.

After adjusting himself once more, Draco turns and steps toward the chair. "Forgive me, I forgot." He waves his hand to end the spell.

"Who the fuck are you?" A pale hand wavers at his side, resisting to reinstate what he just revoked. Such language.

"I just told you," he says simply. His finger twitches. The body before him tightens automatically. Draco occupies himself with a quick mental checklist before he starts.

"Now, as I was saying, I will be your Host. We have only a short time together-"

"Why the fuck aren't they just using Veritaserum and be done with it?" Throwing an arm, filled with rage, he slams the ability to speak, or make any noise he thinks, from the body before him. His nostrils flare slightly as the only outward sign.

"That's an excellent question. A better one would be, why didn't Voldemort use Veritaserum on his subordinates, that way he would have discovered Severus Snape for the traitor he was- well, he did, but that's besides the point. Why didn't the ministry use Veritaserum to avoid recruiting corrupt people? They did, too, but that's- actually, that's exactly the point. There are many ways to get around Veritaserum. One can twist the truth, avoid information, and there's always the antidote. Not to mention memory-altering charms..." White leather gently presses against the man's chin to push his head up in order to create eye contact. "My methods? Not so much wiggle room."

Draco steps back and adjusts his collar. Nodding towards the man, all of his clothing disappears. "Security measures, I assure you. There are to be no physical marks on you, healed or no. No one will dare to check or file breeches on our department, but I rather like following the rules. They are the most important key to society after all. Rules," he turns and mutters to himself, drumming his fingers absently against the man's forearm. Still not turning around, he speaks. "We have twenty-four hours. Then, whether I get what I want, you are free to go. I promise you that. Not so much as a slap on the wrist. You will get two parting gifts from me, and that'll be that."

Feeling energy course back through his veins, Draco turns around and claps his hands together. "Right!" Only now does he notice the man is furiously mouthing the same expletives and questions he was before. Another quick flick stops his lips. They bug him. "I won't bore you. My most important task is to show you three lies you've been taught. The first one we've already covered basically, but I'll have another go. There is no absolute truth. And all I am interested in is your relative, truthful," he allows a self-deprecating smile to cross his features, "version of the truth." His hand is agitated with non-movement; he starts to weave it slowly, toying with the melody echoing softly through the room, stretching the notes and twisting the chord scheme, increasing the pace. "The next two lies and hidden truths will help us get to that first one."

Draco's hand reaches out, only realizing too late there is no collar for him to grab for the dramatic effect he was going for. Twisting his hand away, he grabs the man by the shoulder and half hauls him up so they are inches away from each other. "Lie number two. There is no ministry. There are only different people with power over each other. It doesn't matter that I am an employee at the Ministry of Magic and you are a threat to the Wizarding World. We are just two people with varying levels of power." He drops him roughly. "I'm sure you can guess who has the upper hand."

Draco steps back and takes a soft, long breath. He wipes his forehead with the back of his covered hand, already finding a light sheen there.

"Finally," his voice soft, but persistent, "here is the last, most important to you and least important to me. There are no absolutes and maximums in life, you'll find. For example: _crucio_." The softly spoken spell thrums through the man rapidly, electrifying his every nerve. One, two, three. He lets up. "That is the least effective spell that will be used in this room." He waves a hand carelessly. "I suppose that's a fourth lie, but let us not nitpick. The problem with the cruciatus curse is time. Its far too quick. Too quick to the idea of absolute pain and too quickly, your brain will sadly dissolve into madness. And we can't have that." Draco pats the man's cheek to punctuate his words.

A chair is summoned beneath him as Draco moves to sit. Crossing his legs at his knee, Draco places his folded hands in his lap and asks "Now, what is your name?" His fingers tap slowly as he counts away the second. Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. "The first question is always the hardest, I find. No matter. Things will get easier." A raised hand freezes. "Pardon me, I forgot myself." The man gasps as the spell is removed. "I would ask you to refrain from swearing at this time."

"What? Not high enough to get a fuckin' file on me? You're nothing to them, clearly."

Pursed lips are the only reaction the words get.

Then: "_Aquaffoco_." Gurgling echoes through the room, not outdone by the quickening music.

"I do not have a file on you because, as I said, I merely want your version. That was my doing and had nothing to do with my clearance level to them - the Ministry as a whole, I assume you meant." Draco reclines slightly in the chair and tilts his head. "How does that feel, I wonder? I've never had the wherewithal to try it on myself, in case I lost control and accidentally drowned myself and I certainly wouldn't trust anyone else to try it on me." Well, maybe one person. But he doubts they even know the existence of such a spell, and he knows they need not know his interest in it. "You're not drowning, you know," he states pointedly. "I know it feels like it, but you'll be fine. The water holds in your throat, neither allowing you to spit it out nor swallow or inhale it."

Water began to dribble from the corners of his lips, hacking and coughing followed. Draco thumped him on the back, harder than necessary. "Get it all out. We have a long day ahead of us."


End file.
